


The little blue pill

by Tigresse



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Basically all smutty, M/M, More Sex, Oral Sex, PWP, Small kinks, Viagra, first I love you, plenty of sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 13:43:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19230292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tigresse/pseuds/Tigresse
Summary: John gets a little help from MorMor who have kidnapped him several times in the past to help solve their relationship issues. With Jim and Seb finally stable and engaged, they promise never to abduct him again and give John a return gift.Needless to say Sherlock is at the 'receiving end' of this 'gift'Or _ Upalcove suggested I write a story where Sherlock is thoroughly and brutally ravished. So here it is!





	The little blue pill

**Author's Note:**

  * For [upalcove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/upalcove/gifts).



“OH GOD GET ME OUT OF HERE……GRRRRRR!!!”

 

John Hamish Watson was so high strung he could use himself as a bow to fire a few arrows. The problem was, there were no arrows to shoot. He was, after all, locked up in a room at Jim Moriarty’s house, listening to the mastermind and his lieutenant Sebastian have noisy, wild and passionate sex in the next room.

 

Painfully hard, frustrated at having been kept there for hours, angry at Sherlock for not even trying to look for him all day, he could actually stab someone if he had the means. Or drill a hole in the wall with his straining, aching, rock hard erection. Whichever was easier, faster, or gave him some relief, he’d happily do. After having counseled Jim (for the 50th time) on becoming a more ‘domestic’ partner to Sebastian, he had expected to be set free. But no, Jim had other ideas. First sex with his rugged handsome colonel, then a decision on John! Damn the Irishman, damn his unconventional and annoying ways! He dared not say those words aloud, or Jim would turn him into some usable leather object like a belt or a shoe or a duffel bag.

 

Sometimes John wondered if Jim could really do those things! But then it wasn’t a wise idea to ask him for proof and thereby offer himself as a sample to test the theory on!

 

The moans, groans, wails, dirty talk and orgasmic roars quieted. A few minutes later the door opened and in walked a limping, sleepy looking Jim and a very delighted Sebastian grinning like a Cheshire cat. “About time you let me go,” John said with as much politeness as he could muster, “If you wanted an audience for your sexcapades then I have listened enough. I’d like to go home now, please.”

 

“What say?” Jim cocked an eyebrow at the fair-haired taller man.

 

“This is the fifth time in two months,” Sebastian reasoned, “I say he shouldn’t have even been here.”

 

“He is useful. He gives me advice.”

 

“You don’t need advice. You are doing fine now. I am happy with you and I am ready to marry you Jimmy. Yeah, will you marry me?”

 

A ring popped out and John watched as Sebastian went down on a knee and slipped the item around Jim’s ring finger, then kissed him deeply. Despite his irritation, he did feel a bit romantic when he witnessed the proposal and the acceptance. Oh to be in love and be loved back in return! “Wow, that was great,” Jim pulled back and only then realized John was _still there_ , “Well doc, you proved to be very useful indeed. Jim Moriarty is not ungrateful so I am sure I can do something in return for you. Go on, ask anything you want.”

 

“Don’t kidnap me again.”

 

“Okay. But that was already on my mind. Ask for something else.”

 

Sebastian made several suggestions, like a fancy swanky car, a flat in London, a cottage or homestead in the countryside, an all expenses paid luxury trip to Monaco and a private yacht to stay on, a rare and highly valued painting or set of books, he only had to ask and Jim and Seb would make it happen. John knew Sebastian was partly on his side because they had once been in the army together and held each other in high respect and esteem. But for John, asking for luxury items were not on the agenda. He never liked leeching off someone else’s money. But …. here was something else he wanted to ask for and it involved getting over his own shyness.

 

A long silence later, he finally overcame the awkwardness. “Actually there is this one thing……”

 

***

 

Sherlock walked into 221B with a flourish, the swagger in his steps indicating he was in a very good mood! He also had one of those rare happy smiles on his face, one which made him look younger than this thirty-two years.

 

“What is all this?” He asked, taken aback by what he saw before him.

 

The lights in the flat had been turned off and the heating turned on to maximum. Despite the cold weather outside, the inside of the flat felt toasty warm. There were candles flickering wherever he laid his eyes on and the entire place smelled of a sweet, intoxicating scent that went straight to his groin. He felt turned on, horny, he felt like tearing off his clothes and presenting himself naked to John.

 

The same John who sat on a chair and calmly watched him, a smug smile on his lips. “You just solved your fourth case in ten days, right?” The doctor asked.

 

Sherlock nodded, deducing fiercely. John was in one of those moods tonight! Heat spread to Sherlock’s loins and he shifted weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

 

“You don’t need to work or go anywhere over the next three days.”

 

“No Jawn, nowhere to be.”

 

“Then you’re all mine!”

 

Sherlock and John had practically been a couple for a whole year but somehow never really had any of those ‘crazy and prolonged monkey-energy sex-a-thons yet’, the sort that left both partners knocked out for hours and made the bottom limp for days to come. Sherlock had always been repressed and awkward and inexperienced with bed games and John had his own demons to overcome. He was still grappling with the fact that he was indeed gay, gay at least for Sherlock, and that he was fucking a man’s arse for the past twelve months.

 

But John looked different that day! The detective deduced that he was about to find out what a ‘crazy and prolonged monkey-energy sex-a-thon’ felt like.

 

John’s voice sounded deeper when he spoke next, the tone almost authoritative, a mild growl lacing it as he issued some specific commands. Sherlock shivered with arousal from top to toe, imagining a situation in an army tent in the middle of the desert, soldiers running all around while Captain John Watson fucked Private Sherlock Holmes’ brains out. He stiffened so fast he almost spilled it in his pants, his cock jumping in the confines of his undershorts. “Go to the bedroom, drop your clothes, then take a quick shower in the bathroom and wear those things I have left for you there. Use the makeup also, instructions have been given in a brochure by the sink. You have precisely twenty minutes.”

 

“Hnnnn.”

 

“What was that?”

 

“Understood.”

 

“That would be ‘Understood sir’.”

 

“Understood sir.”

 

“Good. Your time starts now.”

 

***

 

Sherlock had never felt this turned on or this close to cumming without even being caressed, kissed or fucked. But the whole setting John had created, the tone in which he had spoken and the items he had asked Sherlock to use, they acted as the perfect foreplay for him.

 

He was raging hard and trembling when he walked gingerly into the bedroom.

 

“Good, very sexy, awesome in fact,” John said appreciatively as he stared at Sherlock. Dressed in a pair of lacy thong underwear, stockings and high heels, a lacy corset on top, milky skin exposed to his greedy eyes, lipstick and mascara enhancing his bow shaped lips and almond shaped eyes, Sherlock looked and smelled like a whorehouse to a sailor who’d been at a voyage for over a year.

 

Jim and Sebastian’s interventions and advice had worked wonders already. He hoped the rest would work too.

 

“C’mere you little horny slut,” John growled, shedding off his clothes and keeping only his boxers on. The dogtags around his neck jingled and he saw Sherlock’s eyes gaze upon them, before the detective licked at his lips.

 

Sherlock approached the bed and yelped when John reached out, grabbed a fistful of his hairs and yanked him down hard. He landed on his nose on the soft mattress. The whole place smelled of that heady, intoxicating, aphrodisiac scent and a part of Sherlock wanted to deduce what could be the contents of it. A bigger part just wanted to be fucked through the mattress and it was that part that won.

 

John had kept some items on the nightstand, both nightstands in fact. There were lubes, toys, honey, ice cream, chocolate, leather handcuffs and a dish of ice cubes. Here Sherlock failed utterly. He had not a nick of an idea what these items would do for them but he trusted John to know and use them wisely, cleverly, abundantly. Privately even he had hoped for their vanilla sex life, which was not too regular either, to change and become something more exciting, something more passionate, hot and arousing. He clutched at a pillow and hissed as John lavished attention on his back, his mouth touching all the exposed parts while the dogs tags trailed behind the lips, making Sherlock dizzy with arousal.

 

It was then that Sherlock noticed a small bottle kept half-hidden behind the lampshade. It had little blue pills inside. The cap was loose. John had probably taken one from there. Then why didn’t he offer one to Sherlock?

 

What were those pills for???

 

“You need to wear this,” John’s voice was thick and husky and Sherlock heard himself moan with pleasure as a fat butt plug was inserted into him. He still had an eye on the bottle of pills but John started to place sucking kisses all over his butt cheeks and _every thought_ other than ‘sex’ and ‘John’ and ‘bed-kinks’ _flew_ out of his head. Sherlock found himself rolled over and his corset was ripped apart. The loud screeching tear of the fabric reverberated in his ears and he parted his long legs for some reason, as if it was the right thing to do.

 

“Nnnooo,” John said disapprovingly, “You follow orders private. You don’t take decisions on your own.”

 

“S-Sorry Jawn.”

 

“WHAT?”

 

“Sorry sir. Sorry Captain!”

 

John’s hot and wet mouth latched on to one of his nipples and once again all conscious thoughts left the mind of Sherlock Holmes. He shuddered, spasms ran all over his body, and he clawed at John’s back unabashedly as the doctor sucked hard on his sensitive nubs.

 

Suddenly, without any warnings, his orgasm rushed up on him.

 

“J-Jawn….sirr….I’m…..help me!”

 

It was an earnest plea and John understood exactly what that meant, but he was happy to let Sherlock lose it every single time. That evening he wanted to see this sexy, beautiful man totally and completely at a loss of self-control or inhibitions, he wanted Sherlock to be free, to fly, to find release as many times as his body could keep up! Instead of withdrawing and fobbing off the orgasm, he wickedly nosed down Sherlock’s body and sucked the head of his cock. Sherlock shrieked, he literally shrieked like a man on fire and the moment his cock began to throb around John’s hot tongue, the doctor withdrew and sat back. He watched with satisfaction as Sherlock had a full-body orgasm, shuddering from top to toe, gobs of semen shooting up six to eight inches in the air before splattering all over his stomach and chest.

 

“Spectacular,” he murmured.

 

Sexually objectifying Sherlock was not on his agenda, ever. But if someone had told him that sometimes a kinky lover does like to be objectified, even if that meant for a few hours of bed-games, he would have gladly released his demons a long time ago and indulged Sherlock. He had never seen the younger man cum with this force or look so utterly flushed and overwhelmed by his orgasm.

 

John massaged the warm semen over Sherlock’s flat stomach and protruding breast bones before he licked the residue from his fingers.

 

“Ohhh,” Sherlock moaned and sighed at the same time, eyes on John as he watched the obscenely hot act. He began to pant, his cock still standing proud and erect, indicating he was just as aroused as he had previously been.

 

Sherlock’s controls were not so great, he often didn’t last long, but his refractory system was so miraculously good and fast that John had no problems with him losing it. With a sweet kiss on his navel, the good doctor looked up with a ferocity in his eyes that made Sherlock ‘visibly’ shudder under his gaze. “Now you will spread your legs and open up nicely for me,” John commanded, hoping he was able to last long enough, “C’mon, don’t make me say it twice.”

 

Long pins lifted up, exposing the twitching butt hole filled in with the thick plug. John pulled it out abruptly, making Sherlock whelp like a bitch, and replaced it with his much longer and more satisfying organ.

 

“Fuck….Jawn!”

 

“Captain Watson to you!”

 

“Cap-Captain, oh fuck you feel so good inside me!”

 

John pushed inside all the way and began to thrust. He knew he had to keep it up for some time at least, to satisfy Sherlock in the best possible way. The problem was, he was so aroused and hot under the collar from Sherlock’s rather audible and sexy orgasm and so turned on by his responsiveness, that he was almost about to lose it.

 

He abruptly pulled out, making Sherlock literally whine and howl from the loss. He tried to claw and grab at John, hoping to make him change his mind, when John pinned him with a ‘mock-glare’. _Keep up the act or I will leave you high and dry_ , was what the look said and Sherlock swallowed with an audible click and fell back on the pillow. John reached over Sherlock’s trembling body and grabbed a few items from the nightstand. A nice cock ring that would give him more control and time, at least for the first round, and the soft handcuffs. Sherlock needed to be restrained. He was going too wild and shaky at times and that was a no-no in the _dom-sub_ play they were enjoying.

 

A minute later John was inside Sherlock again and the latter was pulling hard on the restraints while moaning shamelessly with each thrust that took his ‘Jawn’ deeper inside him. His body welcomed that eagerly and the detective found himself gasping for breath as he was drilled deeper and deeper, John digging more and more into his silken hot sheath till Sherlock could literally feel John at the back of his throat.

 

“I love your prick,” John grabbed it and tugged on it, “This is MINE.” Then he bent over and whispered hotly into Sherlock’s ear, “Only mine.” The last words were spoken so softly they sounded like they had been said from a mile away, yet that was hot enough for Sherlock’s hips to jerk up involuntarily and a stream of clear slick to pour out of the head. John rubbed it all over the straining, aching erection and gave it a few more pulls.

 

“Y-Yours,” Sherlock whispered back, “Make me, sir, please, I beg you!”

 

“You will cum only when I let you,” John said in his stern, military-level-authoritative voice, “When I cum as well. If you lose it even a split second before I will abandon you in that state. Your mind is made to follow my orders, not to question them or disobey them!”

 

“N-Never…..”

 

“Then quit your whinging and be a good boy!”

 

“Daddyyyy!”

 

That was it! That single word, spoken out in a half-whine half-cry, was stronger than a thousand aphrodisiacs and John came like a rocket. His hips jerked hard as he shot his load and his face contorted so gorgeously that Sherlock let out a little cry and followed suit, creaming his abs.

 

John had almost lost his ability to think. He was traversing a space filled with white hot light, hot and cold at the same time, a tidal wave carrying him over and then tossing him into the eye of a storm, making his bones rattle and his mind turn into an empty, isolated space. He tried to make sense of it but nothing really made sense to him, aside from the feel of Sherlock’s channel tightening around him again and the lithe, graceful body jerking spasmodically under himself.

 

When he was able to regain his bearings, he realized Sherlock had tricked him. The smart little cookie that he was, he had played John’s game back on him and manipulated him into cumming, therefore letting himself find a second release as well. _He had cum despite the cock-ring. How was that even possible?_

 

But like every dog had his day, every John would have their night. Sherlock had played it clever once, he wouldn’t get a chance to do that again! Grinning slightly, John stayed still and silent inside Sherlock, lying atop him and caressing his sides gently, letting them regain their breath. Sherlock was yawning and whimpering, like a little kitten after a long and tiring day, adding further fuel to John’s libido. He couldn’t wait to fuck him senseless again! Sometimes in the past he had fleetingly wondered if he was a dirty old man who wanted to fuck Sherlock and use him like a youth in the first flush of puberty! That dirty dream of his had come alive with a little help from Jim and Seb, and he was enjoying this so much that it freaked him out a little bit.

 

“Fancy a ride, private?” He asked, looking up from Sherlock’s long neck.

 

Green eyes widened. Then the detective nodded. He was proving to be quite the slut, always ready for the next bang. John wondered why he had never tried this before. He untied Sherlock’s hands and lay down flat on the bed, looking up expectantly at his taller partner.

 

Sherlock rotated his wrists slightly to get some life back on to them. Then he stretched out luxuriantly like a big cat. John felt his cock-ring once again begin to fail him. Sherlock looked so sensuous in this state, all fucked out and still eager for more, that it was hard to resist him.

 

“Hurry,” John growled.

 

“Yes sir, at once sir.”

 

Sherlock quickly climbed on him and grabbed his cock, guiding it between his butt cheeks. His body opened up so nicely for John that both men moaned out aloud from the effects of their ‘connection’. John thrust up slightly, hips working on their own by now. Sherlock rolled his own hips, feeling John’s rock-hard cock touch, caress and nudge every part of his super- sensitive and stretched out anal canal.

 

“Feel me, private?”

 

“Yes Captain! You feel so big within me.”

 

“I want you to be as loud as you want,” John said, his breathing strained, “I want you to let it go, I got you, just let it go!”

 

“Y-Yeah….Captain….fuckkk!”

 

John had sneakily thrust up and hit Sherlock’s sweet spot. The reaction was immediate and plentiful, Sherlock’s hands began to move feverishly over John’s chest while his hips rolled back and forth, savoring their connection. The green eyes were almost completely dilated and Sherlock was so beside himself with arousal that every time he tried to talk, he only ended up making soft moans and grunts or babbling something incoherent. He threw his head back and bowed his upper torso, his arse beginning to tighten deliciously around the good doctor’s painfully hard and throbbing cock.

 

John wondered for a moment, _How did I get this hard so soon? That means its working. Jim and Seb were absolutely spot on with their intervention_.

 

“You-You’re thinking about something….else?”

 

John was about to snap at Sherlock for even talking to him like this, for not staying in character, but the younger man looked a trifle insecure and John didn’t have the heart to admonish him. He gripped Sherlock’s hipbones and began to fuck him hard, gritting his teeth to keep himself in check while giving Sherlock utmost pleasure. Sherlock’s eyes widened slightly as he felt the change in John’s movements but soon those eyes closed in utter bliss, his body trembling and stiffening under the relentless onslaught.

 

“I think about you….no one else.”

 

“Uhnnnnn…..”

 

“What? Nothing to say?”

 

“I-I….I am….I love this….and….”

 

“And what?” John held his breath. Was Sherlock going to say those three magical words? For fourteen months they had been together as partners, as lovers, as a couple but none of them had ever confessed to loving the other. They just assumed they did. They never spoke about how much they enjoyed being intimate. They just let themselves feel it and enjoy it without discussing it.

 

But today things were different between them. They had started to shed inhibitions, shyness and awkwardness and become vocal about their needs. It was a day of reckoning, a day when they were truly discovering each other. Naturally, John expected something different from Sherlock as well!

 

Sherlock was jerking off real hard, desperate to cum. John waited till he noticed the tell-tale signs on his lover, signs that indicated he was really close and would cum any moment now. Sherlock’s face was red as a tomato, the flush of an upcoming orgasm, and slowly it was spreading down his long throat and over his shoulders and upper chest. He saw the man’s toes curl, felt the perfect rhythm falter, heard that choked sound Sherlock always made before he shot out his semen.

 

As John heard the sound, he batted off Sherlock’s hand and jerked him off exactly the way the younger man liked it. He continued to thrust, letting Sherlock enjoy the twin sensations without having to work towards an orgasm. It was like giving him the pleasure and asking for nothing in return. The ultimate gesture of a caring, adoring partner who put their own needs second to that of their beloved.

 

The results were worth every bit of the effort John had put in. Sherlock came within seconds and he came so hard he could no longer stay upright by the end of it. It was a full-body orgasm again, every part of him shaking tremulously, every muscle in his body going tense and rigid, his arse tightening so hard that John felt the most delicious squeeze to his manhood. Before he knew it, he was cumming too.

 

Sherlock in the throes of his orgasm and squeezing him to perfection – Potent combination that could unsettle even a saint. John was no saint. He just loved Sherlock and wanted to claim him repeatedly that night.

 

And he did that as best as he could. Their third round happened half an hour later when John did a romantic missionary with his lover, lying on top of him, cradling his larger frame as best as he could, keeping his thrusts slow and languid, sharing lazy and lingering kisses with his man.

 

This time they were not loud, not violent, not shuddering or moving so hard the bed threatened to give away under their joint weight. It was slower, more romantic, an act where not just their bodies but their souls also felt connected at the deepest level. They were no longer Captain and Private, dom and sub, they were just Sherlock and John. When the ultimate moment arrived, they came with each other’s names instead of screeches or growls and Sherlock fell asleep even before John had pulled out.

 

Through the night and early morning they enjoyed each other several times. Between naps and snoozes, a quick bite of apple and cheese cubes, an occasional trip to the bathroom to relax their bladders and several gulps of water, they kept it going for as long as they could.

 

Sherlock eventually couldn’t keep a count of how many times he had cum. He just relaxed and enjoyed the ride. John was no longer in doubt if he could keep this up for too long. He just kept going, his stamina was apparently in a ‘no-drain’ mode.

 

But any overindulgence came with after-effects and Sherlock and John were no exceptions to that rule. Sherlock was in a sex-coma for the rest of the day while John slept like a log till late afternoon and even after that long rest couldn’t find the energy to jump out of bed and take a shower. Both his legs and arms felt heavy, as if someone had filled lead in them, he was no longer sleepy but his head felt strangely heavy and he had a bad crick on the neck due to all the bed-games and repeated sexual activities.

 

He got better by the time night came again but Sherlock stayed dormant as ever. He barely woke up to take a few bites of the Pilaf John had ordered from a Pakistani restaurant before he dropped back on the pillow like a dead flower.

 

***

 

“No, you have not killed him captain,” Sebastian Moran sounded thoroughly bemused when John asked him nervously on the phone if it was normal for someone to be this inactive after hours of sex, “You are doctor, for Christ’s sake. Check his vitals. If they are normal then so is he. Yeah, it might take him some time to walk straight and not like a chicken, and he can’t flop down on a chair or couch without shrieking with pain. Give it two or three days and he’ll be fine. But….tell me this, did you enjoy it? Did it make you forget every other Goddamn thing and person in this world?”

 

“I enjoyed it too much,” John sighed, staring at his phone and Sherlock’s phone together, “That’s the problem. It was so good that I did forget everyone and everything else. It just occurred to me that Mycroft has sent several texts and tried to call us multiple times since last morning and all of them have remained unanswered. Gotta go now Seb, thanks a lot. Please thank Moriarty too.”

 

John quickly texted Mycroft to do damage control. He typed out a longer text first, saying all was well at 221B. Sherlock was a bit under the weather, he had a stomach bug and hence he’d spent the entire day and night in bed, exhausted and in need of a long nap. Nursing Sherlock was time consuming and a full-time job (Sherlock was a bad patient and Mycroft knew that), hence he too had been distracted and didn’t see the elder Holmes’ texts before. Then he sent that text and typed a second, shorter one. _I shall call you first thing tomorrow morning Mycroft. Once again, apologies for responding so late – JW_

 

***

 

“Those pills,” Sherlock giggled as he lay in John’s arms the next morning, refreshed after napping for more than twenty seven hours, “Little blue pills. So they’re right when they say those can really make you go for hours and hours.”

 

“You bet they are,” John said, “But it’s not recommended often. Maybe once a month, we can clear out our calendars for a couple of days and……”

 

“Yes,” Sherlock said, looking excited and shy at the same time, “Yesss!” He burrowed under the covers and mumbled something. When John nudged him and asked him to repeat it, the headful of curls emerged from the covers, as did two twinkling green eyes, and Sherlock quipped ‘I love you Jawn’ before quickly going back under the sheets. John sat there, shit-licking grin on his face, heart leaping to his mouth in happiness, his brain storing this moment forever. Sherlock had finally confessed!

 

“I love you too baby,” he said, finding Sherlock under the sheets and giving him a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose, “You stay here. I’ll get you something to eat. Even I am ravenous. We….um, need proteins!”

 

***

 

John whistled and grinned and hummed a tune as he cooked breakfast for himself and his boyfriend. Oh yes, finally he could call Sherlock his boyfriend. They had had a nice long pillow talk that morning and decided it was time they went public with their relationship. John had even seen Sherlock text Moriarty and thank him, albeit with a snide remark at the end, but he was in such a happy space he didn’t even feel bad about it. No jealousy flared up, no misgivings about the way the two geniuses always stayed connected. He had Sherlock all to himself and that was all that mattered.

 

Freshly made orange juice, cheese and herb sprinkled toast, scrambled eggs topped with scallions and cilantro, pork bangers cut into bite size pieces and grilled, fragrant Darjeeling tea, the tray he held in his hands groaned with the weight of their first meal of the day.

 

The same tray was nearly dropped when John got an abrupt shock the moment he reentered the living room to walk towards the bedroom. Seated on the couch, cool as a cucumber, dressed in his usual three-piece suit and wearing a smug grin on his face, was Mycroft Holmes. The utensils and chinaware rattled dangerously as John swore out loud and stepped back, hitting his shoulder against the wall. “Jesus fucking Christ Mycroft,” he said, steadying his hands and gripping the tray harder, “What the fuck are you doing here, sneaking into the flat like a thief without even ringing the bell or knocking or calling out to us…..”

 

“Chill John, chill, relax,” Mycroft leaned forward and gave him a rare, lopsided smile, “I was very thrilled, so excited that I could barely sleep last night and couldn’t wait to ask you something. So the moment it was morning, I just had to come over.”

 

“Thrilled? Excited?”

 

“What used to be a hunch is now a confirmation. Hence the excitement.”

 

“Um….and the question you wanted to ask?”

 

“So, shall we tell mummy and then set a wedding date?”


End file.
